


The Blackout

by elisa_anya



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Protective Dean Winchester, Thunderstorms, implied PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 09:43:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16595474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elisa_anya/pseuds/elisa_anya
Summary: A big storm's coming. Cas has always had an intense fear of thunderstorms and Dean worries about him, knowing he's home alone. When the storm causes the power to go out, Dean can't help himself and runs to Castiel's rescue. Unexpectedly, he gets the answer to a different type of question he had in mind.





	The Blackout

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys. It's raining where I live and I got inspired to write a little bit during my finals. So, I've PTSD and I used to be deadly afraid of the dark and thunderstorms (I slept with the light on until I was 22 years old!!) My husband was a sweetheart about it and helped me get over my fears.  
> Please never mock anyone's fears, you don't know where they come from and their origins might be more serious than you imagine. Be kind and patient to those with fears you can't understand.  
> Here's a little cute story of Dean being a sweet bean with Cas when he's afraid.  
> Hope you enjoy it!

A storm was coming. The forecast indicated it was going to be a big one and Dean's mom warned her kids that morning during breakfast that they had better come straight back home after school.

“Put the car in the garage as soon as you get home, darling,” Mary ordered Dean as her children headed out the door with their backpacks hanging from their shoulders. “If it starts hailing and the car’s outside, your dad’s going to flip out.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, mom.”

They could feel the storm in the air even before it arrived, while the sky was still mostly clear but the air was thick and heavy, uncomfortable on people’s skins. Dean's shirt stuck to his back, sweat running down his spine during his classes and he huffed all through them, irritated; he hated hot days like this one, it made him feel lightheaded, sticky and grumpy. If he had trouble paying attention in regular, boring days, it was just impossible to even try to care for whatever his professors were saying when all he could think about was how much he’d like to take a shower and sit in front of a fan.

He wiped the sweat that gathered in his forehead with the back of his hand and turned his head around to look at Cas, who was sitting next to him. He was quiet, staring out the window a lot, glancing up at the sky as dark, puffy clouds gathered around throughout the morning, in both awe and admiration for nature's amazing power, and fear of what it’d bring. Castiel had always had a love-hate relationship when it came to storms; he loved the rain but hated the grim atmosphere of dark rooms during storms, he liked to look at the lightnings but the shadows they cast and the sounds of thunders scared him.

The clock over the blackboard announced the end of the last class, the bell rang and the flocks of students headed out of the classrooms in unison. Castiel walked next to Dean, lost in thought, and Dean had to grab him by the arm and lead him out of the way when his friend had nearly bumped into other students for not paying attention.

"You alright, Cas?" Dean asked him, squeezing his forearm reassuringly. It was a pointless question, he knew very well storms always upset his best friend, but he still asked, hoping one day Cas would open up and tell him what exactly was that scared him and why. 

“I’m fine, Dean, just not looking forward to the storm.”

“I know.”

Castiel didn’t meet his eye, just nodded to himself.

Ever since Dean could remember, Cas had been afraid of storms. He didn’t like to show it and didn’t tell most people, but something about Dean seemed to give Castiel the courage to confide in him about this embarrassing secret of his, which had always made Dean feel strangely proud of himself, like he was receiving a huge honor. The first time he’d learned Cas was afraid of storms was when they were both around 7 years old and Castiel had stayed the night at the Winchesters’. A storm had unraveled at some point during the night. Thunders powerful enough to cause the windows to rattle woke Castiel up with a start and frightened him enough that he didn’t care whether he was making a fool of himself or if he was supposed to be embarrassed by what he was doing, but either way he’d found himself climbing into Dean’s bed and curling into a ball next to him under the covers as he shook with fear. Dean, groggy and confused, hadn’t thought much of it. He’d rolled over to face Cas and opened only one eye to look at him.

“Cas,” he’d groaned stupidly, half of his brain still asleep.

“Can I sleep with you Dean?” Cas had whispered a plea in the dark, shifting closer. “I don’t like storms.”

“Sure,” Dean had mumbled and then he’d closed his eyes, falling back asleep almost instantly, something Cas envied him for.

Time had passed and they grew up, but Castiel never grew out of his fear of storms. Thunders were his weakest spot and he totally lost it when the power failed and he was left in complete darkness. Whenever the forecast warned them of an upcoming storm, Dean would casually suggest they had a sleepover that night, never really mentioning Castiel’s fears. Cas usually accepted. He seemed more relaxed when they were together, he could at least catch some hours of sleep unlike when he was alone.

“Hey, hmm, you wanna come home?” Dean offered. “Mum’s got the night shift tonight and dad’s still outta town, so we could order some pizzas and have a Lord of the Rings marathon. Sam invited Charlie, she's a fan too.”

Castiel’s face lit up momentarily and he opened his mouth to speak, most likely accept the offer, as he looked up at Dean, blue eyes childishly hopeful, but then his face fell again as he remembered something.

“I can’t,” he sighed. “Dad’s coming home tonight and I promised him I’d leave him some dinner, and I have to do laundry and clean up a bit before he’s back.”

Dean shook his head and cursed Chuck in the privacy of his mind. Castiel’s father was a writer and he was gone a lot, travelled for interviews and meetings on a regular basis. Usually, it was a good thing because they had Cas’ house all to themselves (what with his mom was out of the picture and Cas being an only child) and they could be loud with the TV and go to sleep late and sometimes throw parties if they were in the mood, but in times like this, when Castiel needed company, it sucked that he was stuck home all alone. Normally, during Chuck’s absence, he spent a lot of time with the Winchesters, to the point he had a designated seat on the dining table by now and Dean told people not to sit there when Cas was home because it was  _ his  _ seat.

“Well, I can go over if you’d like.”

“Don’t you have to stay with Sam?”

Dean pursed his lips into a line. “Yeah… But he’s almost 13, he’s not a baby anymore, they’ll be fine without me. I’ll go over after dinner, how about that?”

“If you leave Sam alone, your mom’s going to be mad at you, Dean.”

“Nah,” Dean replied, but he was quite sure Castiel was, in fact, right... as per usual.

They were already in the parking lot. The sky was covered by grey clouds that stretched all around them, as far as they could see, in every direction. Castiel’s eye twitched. He stopped and turned his body away from Dean, looking at his car parked in the opposite direction from Dean’s.

“I’ll be fine, Dean. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Dean held his breath, bit his tongue. He wanted to press the subject, but he knew better than that.

“Okay. I’ll call you later?”

Castiel nodded and smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. When he lazily begun to walk away, dragging his feet with his shoulders seemingly weighed down by the weight of his preoccupations, marching towards his car, it took Dean every bit of self restraint not to follow after him and pull him into a tight hug. Dean wanted to protect him, comfort him, care for him, kiss him until his worries melted away. Dean was hopelessly and irrevocably in love with his best friend, had been for a little over six months when the sudden realisation had slapped him across the face while Castiel smiled a particularly adorable smile at him, and no one, not one single soul, knew about it (which was just the way he liked it).

Just like his mama had ordered him, Dean put Baby in the garage as soon as they arrived home. Sam hopped off the car followed by his redhead friend, the amazing Charlie Bradbury. Dean paid little attention to them while he watched TV to distract himself, trying not to think of Castiel and occasionally glancing out the window as he watched the storm progressing slowly, the sky turning darker and darker until it seemed like the day was over even though it wasn’t even dinner time yet. Outside, the wind blew increasingly fast, bending the top of tall trees slightly to the side while leaves came off and flew away.

While they were having dinner, it started to rain. Softly, at first, then all at once it started to pour down like God was trying to drown the sinners in town. Dean grew increasingly restless, imagining Cas with his headphones over his ears, listening to any of his father’s records even though he didn’t really liked them in an attempt to drown out the thunders that roared above them. The palms of his hands would be sweaty, his breathing would become heavy and forced and he’d be chewing on his lower lip until he caused damage, often without realising it. He’d be all alone in that big, old house, afraid of every shadow, jumping with every thunder, wanting to watch the rain because he does like it, but too afraid to come close to the window and enjoy it.

It wasn’t normal, the way Castiel reacted to thunderstorms. Dean never said anything because he didn’t want to make his friend feel bad about it, he didn’t want to label him as weird or damaged or anything of the sort, that wasn’t what Dean thought about him, but he was undeniably worried. It was some sort of phobia by now, and Dean had no idea why or when it’d started, what had set it off or how to help him, and Castiel never addressed the subject so Dean had always kind of danced around it too.

“Are you okay, Dean?” Sam asked him.

“Huh?”

Dean looked up. Sam and Charlie had finished their dinner and picked up their plates. The redhead wasn’t even in the room anymore and Dean couldn’t remember her getting up from the table.

“You’ve been staring out the window for a while now. Everything okay?”

Dean nodded a couple of times and huffed a laugh. “Hmm, yeah, sorry, I was just distracted.”

“Okay…” Sam didn’t seem convinced but didn’t press the subject. “Wanna watch a movie with us?”

“No, thanks, I’ll leave you two alone,” Dean winked at him and wiggled his eyebrows teasingly as he took his plate from the table and left it by the sink.

Sam rolled his eyes at his older brother. “Dean, Charlie likes girls,” he stated with a tone that clearly showed he thought Dean was very stupid for not knowing that.

“What, seriously?” Dean blinked a couple of times, confused. “Damn. How’d she even know that? You guys are like babies.”

“Not everyone is clueless like you…” Sam muttered in his way out of the kitchen, too low for Dean to hear.

He spent the rest of the evening in his room, laying in bed as he tried to pay attention to his boring homework. He twisted and turned on the sheets, restless, still worrying about Cas, thinking about calling him. He finished his math homework in an amazing turn of events, did only a third of his English assignment before he called it quits and opened a book he was about to finish. He grabbed his headphones and put them on, listening to Riders On The Storm, the perfect song for a rainy day. The song was just reaching the solo when the power went out.

“Shit,” Dean exclaimed, sitting right up.

He scrambled to his feet, stumbling as he tried to put his shoes on and make his way to the phone at the same time. He went into the living room, where Sam and Charlie were now sitting in the dark, almost fell on his face when he tripped with Sam’s backpack, but finally reached the phone. Blindly, knowing the number by heart, his fingers flew over the buttons and he waited for Castiel to pick up. A couple of seconds went by but there was no answer from the other end of the line. Dean hung up and tried again, but the result was the same. He could imagine Castiel, terrified and alone, curling up in some corner of his house, praying and waiting for the light to come back, not daring to make his way to the phone even though he probably knew it was Dean calling him to make sure he was okay. He couldn’t leave him like that, he just couldn’t, he had to go to him.

“Sam, are you guys going to be okay if I leave for a while?” he asked in a rush as he walked over to the kitchen. 

He knew exactly where his parents historically kept the flashlight and the candles; bottom drawer next to the kitchen sink. He grabbed the flashlight first and, thankfully, it still worked. 

“You’re leaving? It’s raining, Dean.”

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock,” he replied. He grabbed a couple of candles, put them in cups and lit them up. Carefully, moving slowly so as not to blow them off, he grabbed them and gave one to each kid. “But, look, Cas has a thing with storms and I just want to make sure he’s okay. So, will you two be okay while I’m gone?”

“If you take the car out, dad’s going to  _ kill _ you,” Sam warned him as his older brother knelt down on one knee to tie his shoes.

“I’ll run there.”

“Dean, it’s a  _ thunderstorm _ , you shouldn’t be out there.”

Dean stood up and rolled his eyes, throwing his leather jacket over his shoulders. “Look, I’m going, Cas needs me. Are you gonna tell on me or something?”

They looked at each other defiantly in the dark, both frowning at the other as they tried to convince each other to agree with what each wanted. After a moment, Sam deflated, accepting that Dean was not going to back down, not when it came to Cas and his well being.

“No,” he admitted through gritted teeth.

Dean huffed, as equally irritated with his brother, but nodded at him. “Okay, thank you! Just… don’t set the house on fire, alright? I’m taking the flashlight. Don’t fall asleep with the candles on and always keep them out of your reach in case you knock them over accidentally or something. Cas’ number’s on the phone book, first page.”

“I know, I know! We’re 12, not stupid, Dean!” Sam argued.

“I’ll be back before mom comes home, I promise.”

And with that, Dean opened the door and ran out into the night.

“Damn, your brother’s a protective boyfriend,” Charlie commented while they watched Dean getting soaked under the rain, rushing down the street.

“They’re ‘ _ best friends _ ’,” Sam told her, using his fingers to do air quotes in a sarcastic way.

Castiel’s house wasn’t too far from the Winchesters’. Running as fast as he could, it only took Dean a couple of minutes to reach it, but only seconds after being under the rain he’d become completely wet, cold to the bone and out of breath. The storm seemed a lot more intimidating and scary while he was out in the street. The wind blew debris and dirt into his face so he put a hand over his eyes to protect them while he blinked the rain away from his eyelashes. The night seemed to be black and white, lit intermittently only by lightning in quite a creepy way which gave Dean the unnerving feeling that he was in a horror movie and possibly about to get murdered. Still, he kept running. 

He tripped on a broken branch and fell on the hard pavement. He was able to avoid landing on his face, but scraped the skin right off the heels of his hands and he hissed in pain. Lightning struck and Dean scrambled to his feet, not wanting to be out in the streets for longer than necessary. His shoes squeaked, he couldn’t hear it over the sound of the wind in his ears but with every step he took, he felt the water through his toes, rushing in and out of his shoes. The leather jacket, normally heavy, was even more so with the water. He shrugged it off just as he turned on the corner of Castiel’s street.

Finally, Dean came to an abrupt stop in front of Castiel’s front door. Panting hard as his lungs ached for air, Dean narrowed his eyes and searched in the dark for the weird shaped rock under which Cas always left a key for him. He spotted it amongst the pool of mud and, as expected, the key was still there. Dean opened the door and kicked his mud-stained, soaked shoes off before coming in. 

“Cas?” he called loudly, shivering and waiting in the dark for an answer.

“Dean?” a faint voice came from somewhere inside the house.

Dean took the flashlight from his pocket, turned it on and let his jacket drop on the floor next to his shoes with a heavy sort of splashing noise. “Yeah! Where are you?”

“Basement!”

Flashlight in hand, Dean broke into a small run down the stairs, slipped on his wet socks but made a recovery by holding onto the wall to avoid falling on his ass. Stumbling the rest of the way down, he finally made it to the basement. It was a rather long rectangular room used as an improvised living room and storage room too, with two windows and two doors; one was the guest bedroom, the other a bathroom and laundry room. Dean looked around, moving the flashlight from side to side, but didn’t see Cas.

“In the bathroom,” Castiel’s shaky voice came from the further end of the room.

Dean made his way to the end of the room and pointed the flashlight inside the bathroom. Sitting on the tiled floor with his arms around his knees, seemingly hiding from sight behind the dryer, was Castiel. He was looking in Dean’s direction, squinting with a hand over his eyes as Dean pointed the flashlight at him. He looked pale but also like he’d been crying.

“Cas!” Dean breathed out, both relieved and more worried than before. He marched towards Castiel and knelt in front of him. Leaving the flashlight in the floor for a moment, he cupped his best friend’s face, studying him. Even still being mostly in the dark, he could read Castiel’s face so easily, could see that something was very wrong with him. “Are you okay, Cas?”

Castiel’s eyes were wide with panic, jaw set as the tried to stay strong and not seem weak in front of Dean, even though he wouldn’t care if Cas broke into tears in front of him. Dean was consumed with a strong need to make things better for Castiel, to fix him, to decipher the secrets he kept even after all these years and take the weight off his shoulders.

“‘M fine. Just- I- the power went out.”

Dean huffed a laugh. “Yeah, I know. I  _ called _ you. I was worried about you!”

“I was doing laundry,” Cas explained quickly, stumbling on his words, sniffling in between sentences. “The lights went out and I couldn’t- I couldn’t move- I was afraid. I’m sorry, Dean.”

Dean sighed and without thinking pulled him into his arms, running a hand through Castiel’s hair like he was allowed to do that, like he’d always wanted to do. “You don’t have to apologise, it’s okay.”

Castiel unwrapped his arms from around himself and hugged Dean back. An old familiar feeling came back to him with his touch, something they used to do when they were kids and boys were still allowed to hold each other this close according to society's rules without it being weird. Slowly, his heartbeat became less erratic, his fears retreated if even just a little bit in his mind to make room for Dean and the sweet reassurance that everything was going to be okay that his friend’s presence always brought.

“Thank you. For coming, I mean. Thank you,” Castiel whispered into Dean’s ear.

Dean smiled, feeling big and strong with the feeling of being useful, and patted Castiel's back. 

“I'll always come when you need me, Cas. Even when you're too dumb to ask.” He pulled back and grinned at him while Castiel gave him a apologetic smile in return. “Now could you give me some clothes? I’m fucking freezing.”

“Did you  _ walk _ here?” Castiel asked, surprised, only then realising that, yes, Dean was completely wet.

“Well, yeah, I wasn’t going to take Baby out in this kind of weather.”

“Dean…”

Castiel gave him that sad and sweet puppy face, the one that was full of guilt and affection and made Dean’s stomach do all sorts of weird things. He blushed and hoped he was out of range from the dim light the flashlight provided so Castiel wouldn’t see.

He averted his eyes and shrugged, needing to do something with himself while he still felt Castiel’s eyes on him. “It was nothing. Though I did tripped on a lose branch and almost fell on my face. Think I scrapped my hands,” he muttered the last part to himself, bringing his hands in front of the flashlight. His hands were a little bloody and really dirty.

Cas gasped in horror, like Dean was sporting some serious war injury, and grabbed his hands to take a better look. Dean jumped back in surprise, blushing again.

“Sorry, did I hurt you?” Castiel asked, his hands retreating.

“No, no, ‘s fine,” Dean mumbled, shying away.

“Still, we’d better clean that up.”

Castiel was still on edge but obviously a lot more comfortable,  _ braver _ , with Dean at his side. Together they headed to the upstairs bathroom. Castiel, now holding the flashlight, turned his back on Dean and his friend took his wet clothes off. After a quick, hot shower and a lot of nervous glances in Cas’ direction to make sure he wasn't looking, he put on a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt, both things that used to be his but Castiel more or less claimed as his with time after using them more often than Dean when he slept over at the Winchesters’. Afterwards, Cas forced Dean to let him take care of his scrapped hands. It was better to let Castiel hold him in place and endure the sting of alcohol in his new cuts than have him ranting about the dangers of infections for hours. They hung Dean’s clothes on the shower and headed to Castiel’s room. 

After a quick phone call to check Sam and Charlie were doing alright, Dean and Cas laid on the latter’s bed, side to side, their arms pressed together. Dean could feel the warmth of Cas’ body through his long sleeves where their arms touched and his fingers itched to take his friend’s hand when he felt Castiel’s hand grazing his. 

Cas had allowed Dean to draw the curtains back so they could look at the lightnings and they remained in silence for a while. A particularly loud thunder made the windows rattle and Dean heard Castiel’s breath hitched for a moment, felt his body tense in the bed.

Slowly, Dean raised himself to rest on one elbow and looked down at Cas, whose eyes shone even in the dark as they looked back at Dean.

It was time, they had to talk about it, about that secret something that had silently lingered between them for a long time now, unmentioned, ignored, but for a moment Dean was just lost in his eyes, in the way Cas was looking at him, holding his breath again in anticipation but not scared anymore. Dean thought he was seeing something in them, something he’d desperately wanted to see for many months now, but didn’t have the courage to indulge in those desires.

He swallowed hard, pushing those thoughts to the back of his mind for the time being.

“Cas…” he started, not without trepidation. He was afraid that Cas would turn away from him, that he might accuse Dean of overstepping the boundaries of their friendship, but Dean needed to know more to help him, and it was time they talked. Cas waited patiently for him to continue and Dean felt terribly guilty knowing the other didn’t want to talk about this. “Cas, why are you so afraid? Did something happened… to you?”

Cas sucked in a breath and averted his eyes. A sequence of emotions reflected in his face; surprise, disappointment, a bit of panic, fear… 

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“And I don’t want to push you, but I think you need to,” Dean whispered.

“Someday. I promise, but…” Cas closed his eyes and only opened them after taking a deep breath. He looked small and fragile when he gazed back into Dean’s eyes. “For now, just… distract me, will you? Please, Dean?”

The back of Castiel’s fingers pushed closer to Dean’s, shyly but sure of what they were doing, it wasn’t a mistake, it wasn’t a misunderstanding. Dean looked down at their hands, his heart beating fast against his chest. He had the dumb thought of being afraid Cas would hear it and realise all the things Dean felt for him. Castiel’s fingers were slipping around his, holding his hand in an awkward position. When he met Cas’ eyes again, he was being gifted with a small, hopeful smile, a beautiful sight for sore eyes. 

“I can’t talk… about  _ that _ , yet, but… I want to talk about…” Cas took a deep breath, his eyes coming down for a moment to look at Dean’s lips, then in a whisper he finished, “something else.”

Dean very well begun to panic. He wasn’t ready, he didn’t know how to handle life suddenly offering him the thing he wanted the most. He wasn’t good with words, not by a long shot, and Castiel knew eloquence wasn’t something he was known for. He had never, not in his wildest dreams, thought Cas would have more than friendly feelings towards him, and now he was, if Dean wasn’t mistaken or had lost his head, coming on to him. Their friendship flashed before his eyes before he had a moment to form a coherent thought; what if he fucked up? What if they had a fight? What if Castiel realised he was too good for Dean? What the fuck was he supposed to do if they broke up one day, if he lost Castiel? He practically couldn’t remember what life was like before Cas and he couldn’t imagine a future  _ without _ him in it either, he didn’t  _ want to _ .

But he wanted it, whatever it was Castiel was seemingly implying they should talk about. A relationship, or maybe just fooling around, a kiss, a chance to feel his friend’s weight on top of him or the other way around. God, he wanted it  _ desperately,  _ like he’d never wanted anything else. He wanted to love Castiel with the intensity of an old married couple, wanted to get into a roof and scream and confess he loved Cas. He wanted to take him out on a date on goddamn Valentine’s day and show everyone how good they could be together, because Dean would be nothing but good to Castiel, he’d be kind and gentle and loving, supportive, patient and loyal. He loved everything about him; his immense kindness, the way he giggled like a dork, the peaceful look on his face when he slept, the weird way he ran, his strange taste in TV shows, his handmade pizza, everything. But he couldn’t say it, couldn’t say a single word.

“I can’t,” he managed to say, almost choking on his own tongue. Castiel’s face fell and he looked sadder than Dean had ever seen him. When he started to withdraw his fingers, Dean reacted by instinct, gripping his hand like he was holding onto dear life. “Wait!”

Dean fisted the front of Castiel’s shirt as he was starting to lean away, ashamed by the other’s apparent rejection, and before he could convince himself that the risks outweighed the possible gains, he planted a quick kiss to Castiel’s mouth. He pulled away almost as fast as he’d started the kiss, trying to come up with an apology in case Cas hadn’t been okay with it, but then there was a hand on the back of his neck pulling him back in. Cas kissed him like he needed it to live, all desperate and hungry, and Dean didn’t need instructions to give in. He rolled over on the bed until he was on top Cas, resting his weight on his elbows at either side of Cas’ head. Castiel’s arms wrapped around him and pulled him impossibly closer until there wasn’t an inch of his body that wasn’t touching Dean’s and it was hard to breathe with all that weight on top of him, but he didn’t mind in the least. They fell into a rhythm, kissing and exploring each other’s bodies, discovering a side of the other that had until then been a mystery. Cas kissed even better than Dean had hoped for and his body felt different than a girl’s underneath his but it wasn’t bad, the change wasn’t bad at all.

It was only when he needed to breathe that Dean pulled away, resting his forehead against Castiel’s in an intimate but comfortable gesture. He kept his eyes close for a moment, wanting to indulge in the perfect fantasy of the moment, by far the greatest of his life, then gathered the courage to face Cas.

He was smiling. It was a small, embarrassed smile, but there it was, small and shy and lovely. 

“You’re smiling,” Dean noted dumbly.

Cas chuckled.

“Well, it was a rather pleasant kiss,” he admitted.

Dean nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I just… I’d never seen you smile before, not during a thunderstorm.”

Castiel’s smile faltered, if only for just a moment, and Dean wanted to slap himself in the face for ruining the moment, but then Cas planted another soft kiss on his lips and all other thoughts jumped off the window.

“You’ve always known how to make me feel better, Dean.”

The power came back at some point, somewhere in between kissing and trying to pretend they weren't not both kind of aroused from all the rubbing against each other, because neither was ready to move to the next step yet. Dean helped Cas finish folding the clean clothes and they left dinner ready for Chuck in the microwave. When the storm lost some of its intensity, Dean managed to convince Cas to take a taxi home with him. When they arrived, Sam and Charlie were still watching TV even though they were supposed to be sleeping by then. 

“What are you two still doing here?” Dean scolded them, talking an authoritative stand before the two younger kids like he meant business, with his hands at either side of his hips.

“We’re watching TV,” Sam replied.

“Oh, hey, thanks, Captain Obvious! I mean, you should be  _ sleeping. _ ”

“Are you Dean’s boyfriend?” Charlie asked all of a sudden, glancing back and forward between the older boys, who were standing a little closer than ‘best friends’ do.

“No,” Dean replied and blushed furiously at the same time Cas smiled and, very happily, declared, “yes.”

All the authority and bad boy look melted right out of Dean. He gulped, his cheeks turning an even more intense shade of red, and he turned to look at Castiel, demanding an explanation.

“What?” the other asked, confused by Dean's bewilderment. “We are, aren’t we?”

“I- I don’t know. Are we?”

“I thought you were  _ best friends _ ,” Sam smirked. Dean grabbed the small pillow at the end of the couch and threw it at his brother. Sam ducked just in time to avoid it.

“We are!” Dean insisted.

“But we’re also boyfriends now,” Castiel explained calmly. He took Dean’s hand on his own like it was the most normal thing to do, and,  _ what the hell _ , Dean thought, gripping it back, unable to deny Cas of anything. “Right, Dean?”

Dean melted where Cas touched him, feeling light like a feather and completely unable to believe this was happening, but not about to be dumb enough to turn away from the person he wanted the most. “Right, Cas.”

One day Cas would tell him all his secrets, Dean was sure of it, but for tonight revealing Dean’s own deepest secret was enough. And, for the first time, Cas had managed to enjoy a stormy night, falling asleep to the warmth of Dean’s body and gentle kisses being pressed to his temple. For one day, for one night, he felt whole again.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are always much appreciated!


End file.
